10 on Tuesday! Huzzah!!!

Tis Tue-ezzz DAY! Time for 10 random yet intellectually stimulating thoughts from MUA!

1.  I am sitting here at my computer and I look over yonder on my desk and perched there is a HUGE moth, with antlers- they even curl! DANG!

2. Poor little Finny Bean started pre- school today. Finster has issues- mostly huge separation anxiety issues.  Stewie will babysit Oscar so that Whitney can go with Finn until he gets the hang of this.  He's never been able to go to nursery or Primary by himself.  This is going to be hardest on his Mom I think.  Pray for Whitney and Finn!!

3. I saw a good quote today- it said "what we allow is what will continue"...think about it...Wait for it...here it comes.....get ready....AND  Shazam....if we allow that nincompoop to stay in the white house, the insanity will continue!!! Period.

4. Paige and Eric are living in Calgary- just 2 1/2 hours away.  AWESOME.  But even better is Whitney and Brad and the 3 bears/boys are 2 1/2 BLOCKS away. Life is grand and glorious!

5. Good golly Miss Molly I am 23 years at this job and still they want more wine!!!MORE WINE!  Apparently folks like this kind of stuff- who knew...well I did because I paint a kicken lot of it. But come on, can we not get out of that box already.  Yeah- I need some cheese to go with my "whine."   SIGH. Finished this one today. yippee skippy. 

6. I have the attention span of a gnat. I don't like it, but I am not sure what to do about it.  Seems like I can't focus my thoughts on any one thing for more that a half a minute, tops.  Even as I am typing this very thought my eyes are inspecting the moose moth on my desk and he has really cool wings.  Should I touch him?  He's actually standing on his tiny moth feet.  Meh- on to the next thought...

7. We went back to the lake to bring the trailer home.  I water skied so many times around that lake Friday and Saturday that on Sunday I was sitting in church wondering why my head felt like someone had whacked it with a tire iron. Hmmm. And because, as I said, my attention span is shorter than a baby toe, and because the speaker sounded exactly like the Dad in "Forget Paris"...Yoooouuuuuuu aaaasked for it, yooooouuuu gooot it, Tooooooooyota" kind of slow, drawn out and nasally- I just couldn't stay with the guy, I tried but nope.  SO I amused myself by counting exactly how many trips around the lake I had made......22.  Yup, my neck muscles were a tad on the tired side and they were telling my head to pound away like a hyperactive kid with a new drum set.  OUCH! Is there any combination more exquisitely excruciating than a dry church speaker and a wicked headache?  I think not.

8. I am trying to decide if I am brave enough to ride my street bike instead of a mountain bike on the annual Logan Pass bike hike this Thursday.  Can I handle the skinny tires at 40 MPR? Speed or stability??  Hmmmmmm. What say you?

9. My house is soooooo neglected.   After 3 months away, it looks like Pig Pen was house sitting, with his little clouds of cartoon dust wafting here and about.  Possibly the dragon sized moth lived here for awhile too.....do I dare touch....well what the heck do you know...dragon moose moth lived and DIED here.  He's quite perfectly preserved!  Sheeeeesh- time to clean the freaken house!

10.  I dislike house cleaning ever so!

Back at it!

Well the summer is over, the leaves are changing and I am back hard at it. What "it" is I am not quite sure...work, home, life.  We will be going back to the lake to drag all of our paraphernalia home, which is a 2 trip endeavor.  HATE this part!  Sigh. But the boat is still there and so is my full body wet suit! whoot whoot! All is not lost!
This past week, a very good brother in my Raymond ward/congregation, who I respected and admired very much, was painting his house, and for what ever reason,  he fell off the ladder and died.  When I heard this awful news I first rejected it and said no that is not possible, that can't be true, maybe you heard wrong.  Did you get the name right? That's not right! Then it sinks in and your stomach goes completely hollow.  Kind of a buzzing fills your ears and your mind just can not wrap itself around the fact that this wonderful man is gone.  You won't see him at church and laugh and talk with him about your life or work with him in a calling ever again.  Now can I just preface this next comment with the stages of grief cause I have been through them a few times and unfortunately I always get to the anger one at the worst possible moment, but that's where I am tonight- in the anger phase.  I did shock and denial, I did pain, but now I am in the anger, bargaining stage. Mad that such a wonderful human being is gone and mad that there are really crummy people still here- Let's make a deal, take so and so instead....OH MY GOSH DID I JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD???  Yup, I did.  But at least I am honest about it.  Do I get credit for that?
But that is the hard part.  Accepting that there are good and not so good folk all over this world and we don't get to choose when who goes and who stays. GOOD THING, EH!  If we got to choose each others exit dates, I'd be long gone.  Folks would have given up on me years ago.  Hmmm- maybe that is why the good die young.  They got it right and did what they were supposed to do and learned what they were supposed to learn so they get to blow this popsicle stand and go on to bigger and better things? The rest of us still have some learning and growing to do?   Is it a test for us?  Does it strengthen our faith? All of the above?  I think that when I get mad because someone I love dies it's mostly me being mad at me.  Mad that I don't take more time to know people better, and now they are gone and you blew your chances- well not entirely in this case, I did get to know this fine man, but mostly in a church setting.  I should have been on more personal terms and dang it now there's no time left for that!  Angry!  Mad that I don't do all the things I know I should do, that he did.  Mad that it seems so unfair but if we could see the big picture, we'd understand, but darn it we just have to go by faith and hope.  Can't we just see a corner of the big picture?  Just a peak?  Maybe we do and we don't always realize it. Do we realize that big picture and see we aren't fitting into it very well? oh dear, look at me in that big big picture- I am falling off a cliff!  Barely hanging on to a tree branch, or maybe I am just standing there dazed and confused, deer in the headlights. Or shooting my mouth of yet again! Do not pass go, turn around, go back and get it right, dummy! That would be mua!

Can you even imagine what this would be like for people who don't know that there is life after this??? SHOOT, WE SHOULD BE TELLING THEM!!!
 But oh no that's scary.  They'll think I am nuts, one of those crazy Mormons with Mitt Romney ideas! Guess what...I am mad the world won't listen. Then I get mad and say well serves them right.  I warned you I was in the anger phase, didn't I gggrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Thankfully this "mad" stage always passes, quite quickly I have found ( thanks to the teachings of my Mormon faith by the way!) and then there's a bit of a reflection stage, which is also where I am tonight- thus the incoherent ramblings you see before you.
I am reflecting on life, death, good, bad, heaven, and earth and all that goes on behind the scenes in all those places that we haven't the slightest inkling of. We don't know what goes on in other peoples lives.  That's why you try really hard not to judge- it's hard but I am slowly making progress there. I slip up...lot's... but I am at least more aware of it now, aware that it's harmful and unproductive.  We don't know what makes a person "good" or "bad" so we don't get to bargain and say take that guy and leave us Mark.  Seriously, God would that be so bad?  Did you need him that badly?  Apparently, yes he does. You got a good one, God.  I know I am not supposed to judge, but yep, I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say that Mark's a good one!
We then have to get to the working through stages which unfortunately for his family will take a long time.  For the rest of us, we get over it a bit sooner.  We aren't faced with it day in and day out.  That's the heartbreaking thing tonight though.  You know, empathy is really a bummer sometimes!
But thankfully, though be it at different times, we will all come to the acceptance and hope stage of grief, the last stage, because that is what we do as people of faith.  We accept and hope to be reunited after this life.
Guess what world.  I know I will see my friends and family again.  They are with their friends and family who died before them.  I know that because I have had a personal witness that this is the way it is! Because Our Savior Jesus Christ died for us so that we could be resurrected and live again. You can take that to the bank...or not- your choice, but you can't say I didn't tell you, cause I just did!!!
Rest in peace Mark (Allyskin) Ellingson.  Pfff... that guys not resting, believe me- he's working and working hard! You go Mark!!!

10 on Tuesday

I am going to combine a 10 on Tuesday list with a "what I did on my summer vacation/what I love about summer" list.  Are you "having pins and needles you are sitting on"??? (love Despicable Me..Gru is my kind of guy!) Onward and upward.

1. The summer started out a bit rough with rain at the lake and one broken hand bone due to Stewart's inept throwing of the ski rope and my hand deciding all on it's own to fist slap said ski rope.

2. I climbed the second highest mountain in Waterton, Lineham peak, standing at a whopping 8950 feet and we didn't even mean to climb it.  There was so much snow on the regular trail that we climbed up a totally different way and couldn't get down so we had to keep going up!  It was amazing though and now I can say I did it!! Here is a picture of Lineham from the correct trail.

 And here we are not quite to the top. Yup that's me with my broken hand.  It wasn't much help! And behind me is faithful Cheri- she was afraid I would fall and not be able to catch myself- she worried about me all day- such a good friend!!

 

                          
3. I started training for the triathlon a bit late because I couldn't swim or bike but things are back on schedule and the triathlon is on August 13th.  The swimming and biking are very easy for me but the running seems to be the killer.  Not sure why that is.  I used to run for 2-3 hours every day playing soccer at BYU.  My my how time flies and my my how fat and old and tired and out of shape you get!

4. We have had a bear infestation at the lake.  For some reason known only to him, Stewart has taken on the roll of bear chaser.  I do not like this!  He picks up his weapon of choice (a children's sling shot... which in all fairness he is quite proficient with because much to my amazement, a few years ago, he killed a snake with it) he calls our willing boxer, Mattie to come with him and he runs after these bears.  What happens when the bear stands it's ground or turns on you, Stewie??? I will be picking up Stew parts in the forest, that's what!!

5. 3 more sleeps and Paige and Eric will be living in ALBERTA!! Huzzah!

6.  I broke my hand on the 21st of June.  I was supposed to keep my cast on 6 weeks which would be  this Thursday, August 2nd.  I took it off July 9th and skied.  It hurt getting up but once I was up, it stopped hurting.  I took this as a good sign and never looked back.  I actually think that skiing and swimming has helped to heal the broken hand and make it stronger faster...that's my story and I am sticking to it.

7. We had Brad, Whitney and the boys at the lake for a week and it was a blast.  Little boys love camping and fires and lakes and forts and water fights and treats but not rain or bears or going to bed.

8. We took the boys to the Trail of the Cedars in Glacier.  Oscar was very careful not to step on the cracks in the boardwalk...it took a long time! We had so much fun we hiked the trail twice. On the first go round the boys ran- on the second go round the boys walked and actually looked at a few things...  Finn was gocking up at the tall trees and walked right off the trail and splatted about 3 feet down.  He was pretty brave though. Tears for only a few seconds.

9.  What I love about summer...fresh fruit and vegetables, water skiing, getting in shape, (well better shape that in winter)  a quiet, glassy lake in the early morning, time away from work, hiking, long days and nights, I used to love summer thunderstorms but Mattie is so neurotic that she has ruined them for me, ( we even tried a Thunder Jacket- it doesn't work!) I love Canada day, being close to Waterton and Glacier, green grass and lot's of flowers, raw peas from the garden, cool nights after a hot day.  Oh and of course watching the Olympics!!! Go USA!  Summer rocks!

10. Hmmmm- not much else going on except lazing around at the lake- that's about it for this Tuesday!  Hiking Grinnell Glacier this Thursday...can't wait!

How to destroy a summer in one second

I am not a happy camper...quite literally and in ever sense of those words!!!  To begin with, I think you can all be extremely happy with the fact that I DIDN'T CUSS!! That might be a first for me. 
I'll set the stage.
It is June 21, 7pm at Lake Five and I am the only living person tough enough to brave the water.  It has been raining for 5 days but tonight it is warm with that wonderful heavy air that keep the glassy lake as still as death.  I have already skied around the lake twice and have swam 4 laps.  The lake is just so calm that I think- hey, I could ski again!  I don my gloves and life jacket, and grab my ski.  Stewart has backed the boat up and is swinging the rope around and around, just as he's done a million and 3 times before, preparing to let it go so it can fly to either side of me- almost always within arms reach- yeah, he's that good.   I usually don't even bother to watch because he can throw that rope to the side of me with amazing accuracy- like I said we've done this dance for years and years. For some reason I stood up straight and watched him this time... first mistake.  So there he is- a sort of cowboy rodeo slash water skiing rope twirler of the first order whipping that rope into an eye blurring frenzy-  he let's it go and before I can even react, the thing is headed straight at my head.  In my own defense, you have to realize it takes the rope exactly .00578 seconds to crack my skull open- I realize this too, so also in that split second of time I say to myself holy shizolah, that thing is coming right at me, well, that stinks, so what am I going to do about it.  I could duck but actually I don't think I have time for that. No, there must be a better option.  I do need the rope to be in my hands at some point, may as well kill (no pun intended) two birds with one stone and save a millionth of a second.  It takes more time and energy to bend over and pick up the rope so yeah, that's the solution, I'll just catch the rope that is coming at me with the speed and force of super sonic jet.  So I fling my hands up...second mistake... and BAM! Ouch and no I didn't cuss- honest! Oh ouch ouchie ouch!!! By the way, and be impressed- I did catch the rope- but I didn't hold on to it long.  I could feel huge pain in my left little finger- the same one I broke catching a very short low bad basketball pass.  (stupid girl) I look at it and it's not sticking out at a weird angle like the last time- I don't need to pop it back into place like the last time.  So because I have vasts amounts of knowledge and medical expertise and those are definitely the medical criteria for determining a broken bone, I thinks pfff- well that's good, it's not broken- I've got my stuff on so I'm ski-en!  It's a bit painful trying to put the ski on but I manage.  I hold the rope in my right hand and for a fleeting instant wonder if I could get up one handed...  don't let's be silly! So I firmly grasp the ski handle in both hands- ouch ouchie ouch shoot ouch.  I definitely felt something pop in my hand- right under my little finger. So like the practical careful person I am, I let up on two fingers and yell hit it. More ouchy shoot ouchness but I am up  and I am skiing.  Not my best efforts to cut some rooster tail! This thing is hurting.  I only go around once, darn it.  Back at the trailer I gingerly get dressed, and sit down to put ice on this bad boy.  After a half hour of that I look at it and feel around a bit.  I do not want it to be broken, so in my mind it's not.  Kurt and Stewart think differently- so off to the ER we go- at 9 pm.  Short story long, I show it to the Doc, he takes a few ex-rays and sure enough I have a boxers fracture.  Stangely the doctor walks back in the room and says "I can't believe it, you really did break it."  Hmm really?- that's why I'm here??  Shucks, I just thought we'd spend quality some time together talking about the crappy weather! No shizzzz Sherlock!  5th metacarpal bone broken horizontally under the knuckle.  He want's to know if I want something for pain.  nope.  Just tell me how long before I can ski again.  Six weeks.......SIX WEEKS!!!??? seriously?? I didn't swear-  I did say an F word- but fart is much better than that other word which actually I have only uttered twice in my life and really I don't know where it came from in those instances because I HATE that word!  So fart it was.  And fart it remains.  That Dr. made the mistake of not casing this broken hand.  He half cast it and wrapped it with a tensor bandage with velcro.  hehehe- pfff.... VELCRO! As if I can't escape from velcro!  I am giving it 3 weeks- 19 days to be exact.  Then I shall be skiing again.  Stewart is trying to conjure up and manufacture some kind of harness for one handed skiers that he saw on the internet.  Yeah,  like I want that thing hurtling at me! Nope- I'll just ski like an Englishman drinking tea..pinkies up and very proper and dainty like............NOT!
So yes- Camping this summer will see me with one eyebrow and Stewart will be doing the dishes!  Serves him right!
Here is a picture of the offending hand.  This is at the 1 week mark and counting.  The back of my hand is just yellow- so not as impressive.  I also have a rope handle shaped bruise on my arm.  Stewie may be doing dishes for a long time!

There is actually a name for this?? Go figure!!

Disclaimer- Some parts of this post may be gross- stop here if you don't like gross.  I am not kidding.

AND I AM NOT ALONE?  Oh my good gosh Miss Molly- I am stunned. Vindicated, amused and horrified- all in the same breath.  After years of being perplexed and aggravated, ashamed and weird, the light has been turned on and I am no longer alone in the darkness.  I am-are you ready for it-drum roll- an Emetophobe.  I have Emetophobia.  There I said it- I am out of the closet- or bathroom as may be more apropos.  For those of you who have no clue what I am talking about,  here is wonderful wikki's definition of my malady.  Pay special attention to the last sentence-

Emetophobia (from the Greek εμετός, to vomit, and φόβος (phóbos), meaning "fear") is an intense, irrational fear or anxiety pertaining to vomiting. This specific phobia can also include subcategories of what causes the anxiety, including a fear of vomiting in public, a fear of seeing vomit, a fear of watching the action of vomiting or fear of being nauseated.^[1] Emetophobia is clinically considered an “elusive predicament” because limited research has been done pertaining to it.^[2] It is considered to be one of the most common phobias in the world.<sup>[3]

For clarification, I think I fall into a sub category.  Fear of watching and or hearing the act of said chunk blowing.  I don't particularly love being sick myself but I don't freak out about it.  I wouldn't want to throw up in front of people either-  I have done that once,  when I was pregnant- couldn't be helped-  but it was Stewart and nothing seems to bother him.  He was raised on a farm- nuf said.</sup>

 One of the most common phobias in the WORLD!  Well isn't that special.  I was reading a fellow Emetophobes blog today (quite by accident) and something he said pricked my interest-  He said when ever his kids say "I have a stomach ache", he goes into fits of anxiety.  I mused to myself, "hhmmm, that sounds vaguely familiar."
I have always wondered why I get like this- why the flying part of flying doesn't scare me or really bother me- in fact I think blowing up in an airplane wouldn't be a bad way to go- but being in that confined tube with people who may or may not puke is more than I can handle and I have to take drugs-lot's of them- so that I am so hopped up on Adivan that I could care less what anyone does on the plane.   Why when someone says I feel sick do I get a buzzing in my ears and feel the need to run.  Why when my poor niece got sick in the back seat of a car did I scream for my sister in law to STOP THE CAR and frantically jump out of the front seat and walk briskly down Mayor Magrath drive to parts unknown. Like Wikki said- irrational!

I am remembering back to my wedding shower, when my pregnant sister in law got sick and had to throw up in the gutter beside the car while all the ladies at the shower stood watching her.  I couldn't believe that they all stood there so calmly nodding their heads and smiling like this was the most natural thing in the world.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  I thought if this is what being married and pregnant means, that you hunker down in a gutter,  hurling your tiny shower sandwiches, cookies  and pink punch up for all the world to see, I want no part of it.  I almost called the wedding off right then and there-  Riding home in the car with that poisoned woman, who could at any moment, unleash this monster all down my back, was shear agony.  I turned my head to the window and tried desperately not to cry or hyperventilate.

I almost NEVER visit sick friends or relatives in the hospital. You can guess why- there are sick people in there.  Only when I absolutely have to visit- and even then I come and go, in and out of the room and watch them and the other patients like a hawk for any signs of stomach unrest, the entire time I am 2 shades away from a full blown panic attack.   I have been in the elevator with patients on gurneys who look pale and sickly, and I have almost had to tell them to move over, because I am having a heart attack.  When I was in the recovery room after having one of my kids- a lady in there was sick-  I got up yanking the IV tubes along with me and walked out of there- nurses trailing behind me yelling at me to get back in bed. Not happening! I attended the birth of my first grandchild-  I did fine until Whitney said she was nauseated.  FREAK!  Kudos to Whit for holding it in!  Whitney should know how much I love her because I stayed there, all the time wanting to run screaming from that room.   It was one of the hardest thing I have ever done.  I am proud of myself for doing it, but not ever going to do it again.  EVER.


What did you do when your kids got sick? You are all wondering that, I know (along with who blogs about this kind of thing? My blog, my rules...  I did warn you!)  Well God protects crazies in all kinds of wonderful ways.  For some reason,  I was able to deal with them.  I am chalking that up to God, because no other person place or thing has been able to fix this phobia.  With my kids,  maybe it's because they started out just spitting up, they started out as little tiny hurlers.  As they grew into large man sized, bring it from their toenails, the sounds reverberating off the bathroom walls pukers- well they know me and they try very hard to be discreet, quite, and they try not to announce that they are sick.  The strange thing is they were really good, at a very early age, at hitting the john or the supplied ice-cream bucket.  And if they didn't it was Stewart's problem.  One of the many reasons I love that man! Oh by the by- Stewart almost never throws up- and somehow, if he does, he is pretty darn quite about it. 


I hesitate to share this with the blogging world, because there are some who may use this against me- tell me they feel like they are going to be sick just to watch the freak out show-  ( if any of you DO try that, trust me, I will hurt you- I will find out what makes you crazy and I will use it to make your life a living hell)  But man it's kind of good to know you're not alone in your "elusive predicament."
This particular phobia raises it's ugly head in all types of circumstances.  Couple it with claustrophobia and yes, Erma Jean, you've got a walking talking freak show on your hands. That would be me!  I am wondering if there is a cure for this, but then I think- I've heard about people who are terrified of spiders or snakes being exposed to hundreds of spiders or snakes to "cure" them...  I just can't see myself sitting in a room full if helpful but sick folk, all throwing up to cure me of MY ills.  The thought of that is so utterly appalling and insane, I can not even go there in my mind.  Nope, probably just going to have to live with it, like so many phobia ridden people do.  My biggest fear is that someone I need to take care of, a child or a husband, a mother or father will get cancer and kimo therapy.  I will be utterly useless.  My hope is that if that happens, God will intervene somehow, like he did with my 3 kids.  I know that would be the only way I could be of any help to a sick person.

So there you have it, my fine peeps- the real and truly strange me.  I am apparently joined by many in the world in my fear.  We are a strange lot, human beings, are we not? If you are ever in my presence and you feel sick, please keep it to yourself- in every way!!!

Wow I was a Terrible Mother!!!

 I was reading a friends blog today about how she helps her kids be creative.  Hmmm... It started me thinking about 2 things- 1- my own childhood creative endeavors and 2- my children's creative exploits- or lack there of.  Being an old poop means you really do forget a lot of the past day to day stuff, but try as I might, I can only remember a few times I "crafted" with my kids.  I am ashamed to admit that when my kids were little they seemed to just play with toys and watch Mr. Rogers (I hated that show- that sickly sweet simpering man with his slippers and sweater made me want to gouge my eyes out, or his!) But the kids liked it and they liked Sesame Street too. ( OOOO that's a great "S" sentence-  sickly sweet simpering sweater-ed and slipper-ed man!! I must have osmosis-ed that from Sesame Street!) They never just sat like frozen lumps with their eyes glazed over and their mouths hanging open with drool threatening to spill out, hypnotized by the TV.  They were always playing with their toys and each other.  What was I doing?  Painting.  Every spare moment I got I used to watercolor and oil paint. SO now I am feeling like the worst mother alive.  I watch how my daughter makes crafts with her kids and feel guilty I didn't do that.  I did provide scissors, glue, crayons and play dough (home made play dough no less...does that count for anything??) and I think I even played with the dough with my kids on occasions.   Once I was really ambitious and bought a set of wood block tools and some linoleum blocks and we made block prints.  Did I teach MY kids how to paint?  Nope. I guess if they would have shown an interest I might have.  My only excuse is that I think I might have been a product of my own upbringing.  My Mom cooked and ironed and sewed and cleaned and my brothers and I were kind of on our own.  I don't hold that against my mom, (and I hope my kids don't hold it against me.) I kind of just thought up my own creative things to do, like drawing, making doll houses out of a shoe or kleenex box and junk laying around, making troll doll clothes by the hundreds, which is really funny because they were all the same...a rectangle piece of fabric with 2 holes cut in it for arms- a doughnut for a skirt and a "T" for pants.  LOVED IT!  I used to sit for hours drawing an A-framed house with all the furniture in it. But I was always playing at a friends house or playing outside, rain or shine, with the 50 kids who lived in our neighborhood.  Maybe it's too cold in Canada for that, and Moms need to figure out a way to keep their kids occupied.  We didn't watch TV during the day because all that was on was soap operas. No DVD's, no videos, but come 4 o clock we watched cartoons until dinner time.  When I got older, my Mom had me take a few art classes and one horrific modern dance class I can't even think about without dissolving into fits of laughter -hehehe- me and Becky Cannon, oh my good giddy aunt we were bad, but we had so much fun.  They actually, honest and truly, no word of a lie, had us pretend to be trees!! Can you see it- pre- teen/adolescent girls in training bras we didn't have any need for if you get my drift and leotards "willow-ing" our way across the floor. BWAHAHAHAH! oh this brings a chortling induced tear to my eye even as we speak.
My brothers were put in sports a bit- Scott played baseball, Wayne played football, and I can't remember what Cory did,  I got to go to tennis camp and I did become a fairly decent tennis player. But it was hot and I don't like hot, so it didn't last long.  I kind of think kids gravitate to what they like.  My kids didn't ask to craft.  Maybe I shouldn't have been waiting on them to ask- thus the guilt trip. But Whitney is one of the most creative people I know- she is awesome at so many things- sewing, cooking, taking literal crap from the dump or a garage sale and making them into incredible treasures.  She has an imagination and an eye.  She came with it.   I came with the artist in me.  It was fostered a bit by my parents but I seemed to come to it on my own. Kurt was amazing at sports.   He doesn't have a creative bone in his body, and that's ok.  Paige is a writer, singer and actress and when she want to she can draw very well.  I didn't make these kids- they made themselves.  I can't take much credit for them.  But they are all amazing adults, no thanks to me.  One thing they did get from me and that was a cheerleader.  When they did stuff, when they picked something to try, I was there.  Maybe that's ok too.  But try as I might, I can't shake the feeling that I should have done better.  Moms these days utterly impress me with the things they do with their kids.  Better moms?- probably.  Does that mean they love their kids more?  Nope, just means they have a different set of circumstances and different challenges to meet.  Does that mean I was a terrible Mom?  Jury is still out on that one.

And I am spent!!!

You may have noticed I haven't 10 on Tuesday-ed for three week.  This time every year I sort of hibernate in the art studio, and pray for rain, or snow!  Why you ask?  Well if it rains or snows then I don't want to go outside and it's way easier to make myself work. 
I just received the last email from my art director stating that she has all my photo shop files and original artwork, all safely in New York.  I have been photo shopping and painting for two months- Halloween, Valentines(yuck) Christmas and all sorts of everyday hang it on your wall stuff.  Flowers and abstracts and even people.  If there's nothing the buyers like in this package- they can go pound sand!! Today I am going to do what ever I want to do-  And I am starting the day off with a blog. Not sure what said blog will be about but being the natural born BS-er that I am - I'm sure I can come up with something. This Surtex show is a licensing show-  That means manufacturers of just about anything and everything you ever see in stores come to buy artwork to go on their products. Thus the Christmas and Halloween and Valentines images. One of my favorite things to see my art on is gift bags.  Why that is I don't know, but it always gives me a little thrill to see them.  Also I like it when they use it on plates and cups and rugs.  Some of the most lucrative manufacturers are the wallpaper companies. And of course greeting cards.  There... you just had a lesson in art licensing.

On Wednesday, Finn got his tonsils and adenoids out and had a bit more tongue clipping.  Poor little guy!   He seems to be recovering quickly and even wanted to go outside and play with the kids yesterday.  We had Roman and Oscar for part of the day and it was so hot outside we filled up the blow up pool and played in the water.  I just gave Oscar a bucket of water and a little cup and he was happy.  Works every time!

My art director wanted me to try yet another new thing-  Personalized prints.  I am not thinking this will catch on but we will have to see what the buyers say.  Personally I think it's kind of cheesy but I guess there are lots of people out there who like their names on artwork on their walls.   I can't imagine the headache of photo shopping names onto the image and shipping them one at a time!  Who is going to do that?  Certainly not me! BUT whilst discussing this adventure, said art director showed me sites on line devoted to just this kind of thing- tons of them.  Really?  All righty then.  So here are a couple of the images. Note I put Paige and Eric's names in there.  Not my cup o tea but we'll see.
                                    

I guess I'm just not the lovey dovey type so this doesn't appeal to me-  I could see this as a wedding present.  Young couples just getting married and having nothing better to put on their walls? reh- the jury is still out.  I'll let you know how it goes over with the buyers.  Usually the stuff I don' t like they love and the stuff I love they don't like.  It's been that way for 22 years!  I also did some for boys rooms- This one dedicated to my son in law Bradley Edward Davis. heheheh- maybe I'll give it to him for Christmas.  BWAHAHAHAH! Hey.... and Paige and Eric... here's your Christmas present- HEHEHEH- oh I am making myself chortle!!

 Here is one of the Halloween ones I did.  These tags have been a hit.  I did religious ones, Christmas and Valentines ones, and welcome and family subjects.  Fingers crossed the customers like them as much as my publisher seemed to . 
                                     
Enough of that.  But guess what just popped into my brain- personalized tags!! hmmm I'll have to discuss with the art director!  So yes- today I may just sit on my big broad bottom and read a book- I earned it.  So why, may I ask, is it cold and rainy today?? poop!